Wright that Got Away, page 22
“Let’s just show them what we have.”
32
Campbell
We didn’t leave the studio until after nine that night. I rubbed my eyes as I drove the Ferrari back into the Hills. I’d promised Blaire that I’d pick her up and drive with the top down, but it hadn’t worked out. Studio days were always long days. I just hadn’t anticipated it.
I’d sent a car to drive her back up to my house on one of our breaks and told her about the dinner options. I had nothing in my fridge or pantry, thanks to the tour and then months in Lubbock, but some places delivered at least.
She’d assured me that it was fine. But we’d only been in the city for a few days, and already, I was breaking promises. Was this how Michael felt? Was this the reason he’d left us?
It was too heavy for me to think about. My fingers were cramping for the first time in years. The riffs in “Rooftop Nights” were next level. Even though Yorke had insisted that he could take the bulk of the work, I couldn’t give it all up. Plus, our harmonies sounded better together than anything either of us could do solo.
I used to relish these nights. My brain fuzzy from hours in the studio. My voice scratchy and fingers aching. Crawling into bed and passing out, only to do it day after day. It was all I’d wanted.
Now, that had changed. The other thing I wanted was waiting for me inside.
I parked in the garage and came upstairs, dropping my guitar at the entrance. “Blaire?”
“I’m back here,” she called from the bedroom.
As I trudged through the living room, I covered a yawn with my hand. “Have a nice time shopping?”
“I did.”
Then, I stepped into the bedroom and froze. It was lit with dozens of candles of all different shapes and sizes. The bed was strewn with rose petals. The darkened bachelor pad had turned miraculously into something straight out of a movie. And lying at the center of it all was Blaire Barker in nothing but a forest-green lingerie set that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“Fuck.”
She ran a hand down her bare side with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Do you like what I got at La Perla?”
“Are you going to like it when I rip it off?”
She grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I took three long strides to her side, cupped her face in my hands, and devoured her mouth. She made a soft squeak of acquiescence before our tongues tangled together in a passionate kiss. I drew her bottom lip into my mouth, biting down hard enough for her to gasp.
My hands moved down over her jet-black hair and to the scrap of lace fabric that must have cost her a small fortune at the lingerie store. And I didn’t give a shit that she’d spent my money on it. It was the best gift I could have asked for in this moment.
Here, I’d been worrying that she’d be frustrated with my late nights. Meanwhile, she had been planning a surprise for me that I would never, ever forget. Her sprawled on my bed with nothing but a few choice pieces of lace covering her body would be ingrained in my brain for the rest of my life.
I drew my fingers across her sides and under her breasts. Green elastic hugged the sides of her breasts with a petal of green lace obscuring her nipples. I flicked the sensitive skin, plucking it like the strings of my guitar as she groaned.
“Campbell,” she gasped.
I tipped her head backward and kissed down the line of her throat. Then lower and lower until I pulled that erect nipple into my mouth. Even through the little fabric, she squirmed and clutched at me.
“Oh!”
I yanked down the other strap, exposing her full breast before diving back in and sucking her nipple. She arched against me as I massaged the other breast. I couldn’t get enough of her body. Of the way she moaned at every little touch and tried to get away while also pushing me down harder.
This girl, this woman, was too much. She was everything. Everything I had ever wanted. I had no idea how I’d lived without her.
My lips moved lower, down the flat of her stomach, to her navel. The panties were high-waisted, a strip of material along her waist with a triangle of lace obscuring her sweet pussy. Garter straps dangled off the bottom, attached to pantyhose.
She was a vision.
I dragged a finger down the front of her. I arched an eyebrow. “Someone has been thinking about me.”
She smirked. “It was hard to wait.”
I stilled at that comment. “Did you get off while you waited for me?”
“Maybe,” she whispered. Her eyes glittered with desire.
I tugged aside the lace of her thong and slid two fingers through her. She was so wet. Oh fuck. “And what were you thinking about when you got yourself off?”
“You.”
I inhaled sharply. “That’s what I like to hear. Would you like me to get you off again?”
She nodded. “Fuck me.”
“Oh, my girl, you don’t have to ask me twice.”
I shed my clothes in a frenzy. My cock was already rigid with desire. If it hadn’t been before she told me she’d fucked herself, waiting for me, it certainly was now. I ripped a condom open and sheathed myself before dragging her ass toward me off the edge of the bed.
“What are you—”
But I slammed into her before she could finish. She gasped as I bottomed out deep into her pussy. She was so wet from masturbating that she needed no warm-up. Just opened herself up perfectly for me.
“Fuck,” she moaned.
I wrapped her legs around me, grabbed her hips, and dragged slow and steady out of her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
I swept my thumb across her bottom lip. “Eyes open, love.”
They snapped wide to meet me as I drove home into her again. She shuddered at the feeling, and truthfully, I was barely holding on. I could have come right then and there at the sight of her nearly naked on my bed.
My hands slid up her sides as I pressed our bodies tighter together. Her eyes were trained on mine as soft pants escaped her lips.
“More,” she pleaded with me.
And I gave her everything she could ever want. Everything I’d ever held back. I sealed our bodies together until there was nothing left but a few scraps of lingerie and the beading of sweat on our bodies as I claimed what was mine.
She had always been mine.
She would always be mine.
It was incredible how I had existed without her. One minute, I had been living the dream—or so I’d thought. I’d had my music out to the entire world. I had been hitting bestseller lists and selling out stadiums and winning awards. Somehow, none of that compared to when I held Blaire in my arms.
It was then that I realized what I’d really been feeling all this time.
It wasn’t that I’d made a mistake. I’d followed my dreams, and I had the world on a platter. I was at the top of my game. I wouldn’t give that up.
But I should have let her come with me. I’d thought I was doing the right thing by breaking up with her and demanding she follow her own path. I didn’t want to be responsible for her not going to college. I didn’t want to see her lose her way, all for some guy. I’d known then that we meant more to each other, and still, I hadn’t let her make her own choice. I had chosen for her.
And that resulted in eight years without her.
That was my regret.
My one regret in this otherwise seemingly perfect life.
I wanted Blaire.
I wanted to come home to this goddess every day of my life.
I’d never felt that with anyone else. And I didn’t want to give this girl up again. I couldn’t lose her. Not for anything.
“Blaire,” I said as I felt everything crest inside of me, “I want this. Us.”
She pressed her hand to my face and kissed me. “Yes.”
It was the word that broke the dam. I felt her contract all around my cock.
“Fuck,” I spat. “God, you’re coming hard.”
She writhed underneath me, trying to get closer, digging grooves into my back with her nails. A keening emanated from her voice as her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. And all it did was trigger my own.
I let out a string of curses as my body went rigid, and I unleashed deep inside of her. She milked me for every single drop as we came together. Everything shook inside of me, and then I collapsed forward.
Kiss after kiss I pressed across her shoulders and chest. “My goddess. My queen. My everything.”
She laughed softly at my words. “So, it was good for you?”
I met her wild blue gaze. “Perfect.”
“I’m glad you liked the lingerie.”
“You are perfect. The lingerie is just a bonus,” I said as I kissed her collarbone.
She threaded her fingers through my messy, dark hair. “I want to stay like this forever.”
“Me too.”
I laid my head against her chest and listened to the rhythm of her heart slow to a steady drumbeat. Then, I hoisted myself off her and discarded the condom. She headed into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later to crash back down on the bed.
“How was the studio?” she asked as she snuggled up against me.
“It was work.”
“Sorry about Michael.”
I shrugged. “We tried. We’ll figure it out. What did you do today other than shop?”
“Work,” she said, glancing up at me dreamily. “I edited a ton of videos and talked to Nate.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Nate?”
She laughed at my expression. “English thinks he should do a video on Saturday to congratulate us after we announce our relationship. She thinks it’ll go a long way toward goodwill.”
“Ah,” I said. “That English is smart. How did Nate take that?”
“He didn’t care. We’re just friends.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, tipping her chin up with my finger and pressing a kiss to her swollen lips.
“Girls and guys can be friends.”
“Sure. Just not ones we recently slept with.”
She swatted at me with a laugh. “Even those.”
I took her hand and kissed each individual finger. “Blaire, you know you’re important to me, right?”
“You’re important to me, too.”
“I know that my job isn’t ideal for a relationship. Seeing Michael today showed just how problematic it can be.”
“It’s new, Campbell. We don’t have to decide all of that today.”
“I know. But I’ve realized that I can’t live without you.”
Her eyes were wide with that statement. “Is that so?”
“I made a mistake, not letting you make a decision. Not being there the way you needed me in the past. I don’t want to be that guy this time.” I took a deep breath before saying, “I love you.”
She gasped softly, as if she hadn’t been expecting those words. Truthfully, I hadn’t known that I was going to say them. I was in love with her. She was my entire world. And the last thing I wanted was to be separated from her. I just couldn’t have her not knowing that.
“I love you, too,” she said, pushing to her elbows for another kiss.
“You do? It’s not too soon?”
She shook her head. “I can’t deny it either.”
She snuggled down against me, her breathing going even again. She repeated the words, as if she couldn’t quite believe we’d said them, “I love you.”
And as she fell asleep in my arms, I repeated them back to her. Three words, one promise. “I love you.”
33
Blaire
Campbell Abbey loved me.
Again.
It felt surreal to even think that we could be here. After everything, we’d made it back to this point. And somehow, it was both easier and harder than before.
Easier because we were older and knew the extent of our feelings. We knew precisely what it would be like to be without the other. How difficult it was. But more difficult for so very many reasons. Not the least of all, his celebrity status and the fact that…while it was amazing to be here, I’d eventually have to return to Lubbock.
My life and friends were there.
Campbell’s life was here.
But I believed we could find a compromise. I just didn’t know yet what it was.
Even though I was in LA with him now, he was at the studio at all hours of the day. It wouldn’t always be like this, of course, but then he’d be on tour and promoting and award season. It would be difficult but not impossible.
At least, I wanted to try before dismissing it entirely.
We had a second chance. I refused to squander it.
But while he was in the studio, rehearsing and structuring the songs that would one day become an album, I still had to run my own business. I’d dropped all the content with Nate on English’s suggestion. It pained me to give up a week’s worth of videos that we’d scripted, recorded, and paid for. But that was for the best, long-term, considering what I would be walking into at the gala this weekend.
Luckily, Honey had backup content ready to go and I had plenty of footage of the band. Though I also felt like I shouldn’t show too much of it since English was now consulting with an entertainment lawyer about the docuseries. Which meant more work for me here in Hollywood.
I’d taken to carrying my tripod around with me early in the morning and shooting a bunch of Blaire Blush discussions at various famous LA locales. Yesterday, I’d even taken a cab over to Santa Monica Pier and recorded on the actual Ferris wheel.
Today, I was on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. My phone dinged for the five hundredth time today just as I’d set up my tripod.
I clicked to my text messages and found another one from Honey.
Wish I were there to film this one. I’ve always wanted to go to Grauman’s!
I shot back a quick note.
Next time!
Is Campbell there with you?
Nope! Just me. He’s too busy.
Too bad! Well, don’t have too much fun without me.
I sent her back a dancing emoji, which was my cue to her that I was getting back to work, and pressed record. I stepped back and performed the dance I’d learned the night before. I was halfway through when a man stopped in front of me.
“Uh, excuse me,” I said, gesturing to the tripod.
“Are you Blaire Barker?” He had a camera in his hand and pointed it in my direction.
I gawked at him. How the hell did he know that?
“Uh, yeah?” I stepped forward, shutting off my camera and slinging my bag over my shoulder. It never felt like a good thing when a random stranger knew my name.
“You run Blaire Blush?” He was still talking to me through his camera.
“I don’t want to have this conversation.”
I turned and walked away. My hands were shaking slightly as I made a hasty retreat, passing over Bruce Willis’s Hollywood star. The man kept up with me, and suddenly, another man with a camera was jogging across the street toward us.
What the fuck?
“Blaire,” the man said.
“Leave me alone.”
“Is it true that you’re in a relationship with Campbell Abbey?”
I gaped at them, which was probably answer enough. I needed to get my facial expressions under control. Now, they had that shocked look on camera forever.
I continued walking away from them. But as I turned the corner, I nearly slammed into a group of tourists.
“Sorry,” I gasped.
“It’s her!” one of them said, clutching my arm.
“I knew we’d find her nearby. She went live in front of the theater,” another said.
I tried to tug away from the person, but she was still holding on to me. “Let me go!”
“You’re the person that Campbell decided to date?” a third said in disgust.
“She doesn’t look like much.”
I had no idea how any of them knew I was dating Campbell or who the hell they were, but my fight-or-flight was kicking in. I was ready to get the hell out of here.
That was the moment I realized that they were all wearing the same jean jacket. And on the chest was a Campbell Soup symbol. These were Campbell Soup girls. They’d tracked me down. Let me repeat, what the fuck?
“Let me go,” I said, jerking away from the girls. I finally pulled away hard enough that she released me. But this mob of girls looked much more menacing than the set of Campbell Soup girls I’d met in Lubbock.
I turned for another escape, but the paparazzi had caught up to me and were shoving cameras in my face. Flashes went off. The world tilted as my claustrophobia hit fresh and new and disorienting. The internet had speculated that Campbell and I were dating, but I had been more careful about what I was posting. Many people had moved on to thinking that I was just filming the entire band for their new album, which was also true.
But these people knew. They had been stalking me and come out to my last known location to harass me. I didn’t know their objective, but it couldn’t be good.
“This can’t be the girl,” the first woman said.
“Blaire.” One of the cameras was stuffed into my face, and the flash went off.
I blinked, momentarily blinded by the light.
“Is it true that you’re the ‘I See the Real You’ girl?”
My vision dipped, and my stomach went with it. “What?” I whispered, horrified.
That was one of the questions that I’d gone over with English for the gala on Saturday. We figured we might as well admit that I was the girl everyone had already guessed at. She’d thought it would make a good angle for people to be sympathetic to our love story. Or something.
But now that the question was out in the open, being asked by multiple paparazzi with cameras in my face, I went blank. I forgot everything she’d told me. All I could think about was the sad little girl left behind by Campbell. The person I’d shattered into after he set off for LA, like he’d always planned, leaving me alone and pregnant. I’d forgiven him for what he’d done to me. For making me the “I See the Real You” girl after all of that. The constant, ever-present reminder of what I’d lost. But I still had qualms about the world finding out.
